Folie à deux
by Elashor
Summary: Part of the 'All Doors are Open' Series. It isn't just Will Graham that has caught Hannibal's attention, it's the man that the agent seems so intense on keeping to himself that has the doctor intrigued about the mystery man.
1. Author's Note

**Author's Note**

The characters in this fanfiction obviously don't belong to me. They belong to their original owners and I make no profit from this work or any of my works within the realm of fanfiction.

This is something I've only recently started doing, writing that is, so my stories are going to have plot-holes, OOC Characters and most of everything you will read that will be posted by me will probably not follow canon timelines so if that's something you are looking for, please be forewarned that you will not find that with me.

This is my second ever piece of fanfiction, and my first for the Hannibal fandom so please be kind and feel free to leave comments/reviews/prompts because I don't know where I want to go with this fic exactly so am open to ideas 😊

Thank you for taking the time to read this note of mine and proceed onto the first chapter!

Kind Regards,

Elashor


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

"… _and the third brother greeted Death like an old friend_ …"

 ****Harry Potter POV****

Harry knew that it was time to go. Time to leave the past that so caused him to clutch at his chest as if his heart was being squeezed from the inside as he thought back over what he had gained but most importantly - what he had _lost_.

The War. That's what they ended up calling it just before they could no longer speak of it, took everything. The war had been so encompassing, so vast, so devastating that even the historians felt that there was no other to compare it to. The war between the perceived 'Light' and 'Dark' couldn't be contained to just Great Britain like the Ministry of Magic had fooled themselves into believing. The Death Eaters were wider spread than that. The beliefs of pureblood supremacy was a global issue the ICW had battled and failed to conquer for many centuries. It took Voldemort's resurrection to truly trigger the final steps towards the utter collapse of the Statute of Secrecy.

There were too many blister attacks for the obliviators to keep up with and with how technology kept advancing in the muggle world, while the wizarding stagnated, videos of feats of magical destruction surged over the internet and spread like a viral disease all over the world. In a matter of hours millions of viewers watched as rogue wizards and witches blew up buildings and tortured people indiscriminately in the streets.

Actions that couldn't be hidden, ignored or twisted into stories of elaborate hoaxes. Governments took action and then the world was at war. The atrocities committed against human and non-humans escalated until no one was spared. People grew paranoid at strangers on the street; the kind old lady that they have been served fresh bread by their whole lives, their friends, their family. It became all encompassing. Not even the children were safe. If anything, they were the biggest targets. It seemed that people got the idea that to truly wipe out what they feared, they must eliminate everything – including the children to ensure extinction. It was the Holocaust, The Killing Fields and Stalin all over again.

And it worked.

Harry had tried to stop it, stop Voldemort, but knew that no matter the destruction of the Dark Lord, nothing could stop the world-wide chaos that he had started. It was the deaths of his friends that made him retreat, watch as the years passed by, the death tolls continue to rise with no end in sight. It wasn't long before he noticed that he never changed over the years like the world around him. Well, not in the traditional sense of the word. Yes, he experienced some physical changes. But it wasn't aging.

Something had begun to whisper in the depths of his mind back at the Battle of Hogwarts, when his fingers had clasped around a certain three items. But he had pushed the thoughts aside, shut a giant mental door on that dark whispering voice that told him _why_.

The changes were small at first, barely noticeable to the naked eye. He was always too short and emaciated in appearance due to the upbringing he was forced into by a certain meddling old coot. But that too began to change slightly, while still remaining very demure in height, his physique began to become more proportionate with his current height. He became lithe or even delicate. His skin began to lose the natural tan he seemed to always have, becoming pale, almost like snow and soft. That's what annoyed him the most; the scars, the callouses, the physical memory of his suffering was _gone_. As if it had never happened. But he still felt them on the inside, as if they were still there, only now beneath the new soft shell that his body had become.

The changes didn't stop there, oh no, if anything it only got _worse_. And that whispering voice could be heard laughing on the winds if Harry found himself focusing too much on that door. Harry always had a problem with taming his hair, but it wasn't something he found he didn't dislike per say. When he had found out it was a _Potter_ trait he was pleased. If only to feel as if he had more connection to his deceased family than he had first thought. A silly notion, but to an eleven year old, it was a comforting one.

Now though, that too began to change. His hair grew to the length of Sirius's, which wasn't too unpleasant at first. But realizing that the texture of his hair began to change, Harry truly felt that what made him _Harry Potter_ started to fade from living memory. His hair was now a silky, inky black, so black it seemed to absorb light and curl slightly. Thankfully his eyes stayed the same vivid green he so loved, a colour he shared with his mother.

Though what really sealed the deal for Harry was a certain mark that seemed to appear as if it had always been there that started at the back of his neck with a long forgotten language swirled down his spine.

The Deathly Hallows.

Harry Potter had become the Master of Death.

It wasn't until Harry found himself standing over a ravine that used to be London; staring down at the remains of a once grand sprawling city reduced to rubble and now an almost natural landmark, that Harry finally met him. He didn't make any grand entrance or start spouting off some random speech about nature taking its course or that it's time to move on. No, he, they, it, just….stood there slightly off the side and behind him for hours. Never speaking a word or making a move.

It was Harry that made the move to speak first, finally shifting slightly to take a look at the being that had been silent and still for the whole time. "I'm guessing that the last has fallen." Death merely inclined its head slightly as Harry let out a sigh.

'The last' being the last of humanity, of civilization, of any form of living being. Harry didn't count himself part of the living, as someone who didn't need to eat or sleep or even age, he didn't think he could qualify as 'living'.

"You are the only being upon this earth, besides myself." Death stated indifferently.

"What is there for me? Is there anything besides my continued existence upon an empty world?"

"There are many infinite worlds you can inhabit. As you are the Master of the Hallows, all doors are open to you. No opportunity withheld."

Author's Note:

I thought to add in a chapter of how Harry became who is in the future chapters (or the start of that journey anyway) to kind of explain why he is in the Hannibal universe. The chapter may be familiar to others you may have read, and as a person that has read thousands of Harry Potter fanfictions myself, I couldn't for the life of me tell you who I got the prompt from. Sorry.

First of all, someone had sent me a prompt ages ago that I have only now decided to give a try writing about. Also, I love the Hannibal/Harry Potter crossovers out there and don't believe there is enough of them so I thought to give it a try myself.

Thanks for reading,

Elashor


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two  
**

* * *

 **"dialogue"** \- Death

 ****Harry's POV****

Harry now Hadrian in this new world and it took him a long time to get used to not responding to 'Harry' on the street. Death had organized him an identity and background history for him so as to blend into society better and hopefully not get caught out.

He found that he had all the wealth and the properties that he had back in the 'old world' - as he likes to call it. Which was weird, but Death was an all-powerful being so it wasn't that much of a surprise in hindsight. Or more like, three bottles of Firewhisky later…

He also found that he had no use of a wand and his magic changed.

 **"You're in a new world now, Master. I believe the saying goes, 'New Life, New You'."**

Oh, Harry - no _Hadrian_ now had to get used to a sass monster of a grim reaper on top of everything else it seemed. Death seemed to like popping up whenever and where-ever he liked and loved commenting on events knowing full well Hadrian couldn't verbally respond unless he wanted to look like an unstable mess.

 **"I believe by the standards of man, you would be more of an attractive unstable mess, Master."**

….and he forgot that Death could read minds.

Shaking his head, Hadrian focused back on his thoughts. Not before sticking his tongue out at Death for good measure, making a random passer-by look at him in surprise before moving on - admittedly with a quicker pace than before.

Hadrian had first looked into purchasing a property in the States as he didn't want to visit the properties in England, they held too many raw memories for him to be ready to sort through all that mess right now. Of course Death thought it would prove a challenge to dump him in some random country with no shelter, but at least he made sure he had the means to provide himself with one.

He bought a medium sized farm-house in the small town of Wolf Trap, Virginia as Hadrian really liked the atmosphere of the area so far. While it was small, and came with all the small-town issues, it was a nice change of pace from total alienation that he had back in the old-world so compared to that, Wolf Trap was busy. Hadrian saw it as a nice way to slowly ease himself back into socialization, however much that made him cringe. He wasn't a big fan of socializing, having preferred small circles of friends over the forced popularity that came with being _Harry Potter_.

Now though, this new world gave him the freedom to explore his interests uninterrupted. He renovated the farmhouse and property a bit with his new magic, making sure to embed wards and protection runes into the foundation of the property. If someone saw the walls and floor of his basement…well, they would think he was some pagan witch. Which would be kind of ironic and not too far off. He made a massive library for all of his books, keeping the ones of magic under a strong set of wards down in the basement behind another several layers of intricate wards. Just to be safe. All about the 'constant vigilance'.

Hadrian had converted the massive barn on the property to something that was more functional for him, seeing as he wasn't planning on actually mass-farming anything besides what he needs for himself and the occasional stocking of a market stall he helped out from time to time. So, he had turned one side of the barn into massive industrial windows that overlooked his meticulously planned vegetable and herb garden the wove around a giant greenhouse; where he kept the more sensitive plants for the off-seasons as well as flowers.

While Hadrian hated doing the gardening when he was living with the Dursley's, he found that he actually enjoyed looking after his own garden and cooking the spoils from it. It may have something to do with not getting beaten or starved, but he wasn't about to look at the reasons too closely. All that he was happy about was that he could eat and garden in peace.

He now used the barn for his art. Hadrian had found that due to him being free from all the -

 **"Bad mojo, Master"**

…yeah, 'bad mojo' didn't really cover it. But….

Anyway! Now that he had the time, the positive environment, etc. He found himself exploring his interests into a variety of areas. Hadrian started to explore his talent in drawing and painting, even going so much as to try his hand at stain-glass work. He also started to look into volunteering at the local animal shelter in which he found an interest in anatomy.

It was at the local animal shelter where he met the most curious of people. A man had brought in a stray to be checked over and to purchase some supplies for him as he intends to add the stray to his 'pack'. The man had a very scruffy appearance, with his too-big plaid shirts half tucked into well-worn jeans and scuffed working boots. However, it was his eyes that drew Hadrian in.

A combination of dark and light blues sparking with a keen intelligence and just a hint of darkness surrounded by exquisitely long black lashes. A face sculptors of the past could only dream of hidden under the scruff of a week-old beard. He was gorgeous.

He was _Will Graham_.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

A slightly shorter chapter, however I felt that this chapter could comfortably finish here as I do plan to have the next chapter in Will's POV.

Harry is now Hadrian and will be referred to as such for the duration of this fic and also don't be surprised with Death casually interrupting all the time. It's something I hope to add to make Hadrian respond in certain ways that may draw the eye of a certain cannibal further down the line.

Yes, Hannibal will be making an appearance not in Chapter 3, but more than likely in Chapter 4. I want Will and Hadrian to be a 'thing' before adding Hannibal. I love possessive and protective Will, so I really want to try my hand at writing it. 😊

I don't have a beta-reader so any mistakes with the punctuation and grammar are mine. Once I get back into the swing of writing things again, it should improve...should...*Shrug* I will try my best at least.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three  
**

* * *

 ****Will Graham's POV****

Will Graham never let it be said that he was a social creature.

He preferred his dogs and his quiet little house out in Wolf Trap, Virginia. It would be further away from civilization but he reasoned that the long drive to Quantico was enough of an issue in good weather; let alone the terrible winters and storms the state was prone to.

He was also partial to being able to have access to certain things such as telephone lines, gas and electricity. Even if they were spotty at best during the winter months of the year. It also helped that there was a good animal shelter/veterinary clinic within the town outskirts as well, makes looking after his pack and any strays easier.

Speaking of strays, Will looked down at his current acquisition. A mixed border-collie he named Winston. He was hard to convince to come along with him when Will had found him abandoned on the road heading north to Baltimore but after some left-over sausage - _he knows he will need to restock on actually_ \- the dog adjusted well to his new home. All Will needed to do was head into town and stock up on supplies and get the vet to have a look over Winston to make sure Will hadn't missed anything concerning the dogs health.

"Come, Winston."

After making sure that the other dogs had done their business outside and wiping them down as they made their way back indoors, Will made sure that only Winston followed him to the car _. I suppose now is a good of time as any to get things sorted._

After a slow drive into town, Will pulled up outside the clinic. It seemed to be a little busy, with a few cars parked in the 'customer parking' and a delivery truck parked off to the side of the building. They were quick to make sure they had the supplies needed on hand at all times, which was why Will liked the clinic so much. It seemed they had a wealthy benefactor who made sure everything was kept up to standard and everything in order. Something that wasn't as common in the smaller clinics in the rural towns.

Upon entering, Will was distracted from his thoughts by a mild-mannered, "Good morning" from the attendant behind the counter who had a surprisingly British accent. Looking over the attendant Will couldn't help but admire the visage before him. Petite was one of the few words that he could use to describe the man, 'delicate' was another but Will could sense that the man probably wouldn't appreciate such anecdotes attached to him.

Will continues to appreciate the man as he walked up to the counter to see if he could get Winston in to be seen before noon. It was rare that Will felt the need or the curiosity to meet someone's eyes, but Will found himself slowly tilting his head until he could meet the man with full eye-contact.

Large, almost almond shaped eyes with the most shockingly shade of green Will had ever seen on a person met his squarely. Will found himself drawn into the gaze, not even feeling the need to look away like he normally did when he accidently made eye contact with people. Even his colleagues or 'friends'. He stared into those eyes as if entranced and the longer he stared the more he realized that they weren't just _one_ shade of green. They were almost faceted, hundreds of brilliant shades layered over and around the pupil, like shades of stained glass layered together like some complicated artwork Will could only imagine in an art studio.

But as Will stared longer, the expected feeling of being overcome by another person's mind didn't follow. Which made him frown a bit and stare even more. Will had never met a person that was blocked off from him, people _always_ bled through; especially through their eyes, which was one of the reasons why he refused to make eye contact with people. But not with this man, the only sensation Will felt was almost smoke-like calm, or the calm of the stream behind his house when he went fishing.

Will felt the tension he always carried dissipate, flowing away just like the stream he always visited and tried to emulate late at night when sleep wouldn't come. But not only that, feeling deeper he could almost feel a sense of deep-rooted sadness. Not too much as though to cripple, but more of an accepted sadness. Something Will had never really been exposed to before. But that was all. He couldn't get any more, and he found himself relieved. And _intrigued_.

"Good morning, I'm Will Graham and was wondering if I could please get my dog Winston in for an appointment before noon?" he was surprisingly cordial and it had been a while since he had managed to talk so smoothly with another person, and with a complete stranger at that.

The attendant looked down at his computer and after typing away, looked up again, strands of his soft-looking black hair brushing over his high cheekbones as he also peered over the counter. Will's eyes hungrily took in the smile that spread over the mystery man's face as he glanced down at Winston sitting by his legs. "Of course, Mr. Graham. Winston can be seen in about 15 minutes or so, if that's convenient?"

He could only reply with a nod and still stood there watching as the mystery m- no, Will noticed a neat little badge clipped onto a lanyard 'Hadrian Black' - typed in Winston for the appointment.

"Please feel free to take a seat and I will call you when the vet is ready." Will made his way to the seats, but not before taking in how Hadrian ducked around the counter to let Winston sniff his hand before giving him a rub around the ears.

Yes, Will knew he would like to get to know this Hadrian Black better. 

* * *

**A/N:** This chapter is shorter than the other two, but I found this chapter surprisingly hard to write. Perhaps it was due to my not knowing _how_ exactly I wanted their first meeting to go, to not having much experience (or any) with writing characters from the Hannibal fandom.

Thank you to those who took the time to write me a review on the previous chapters 😊 I do appreciate it, and never feel like it's rude to want to request a story or share a prompt/idea/brainstorm etc. with me. I enjoy it, so feel free.

Because if it was rude, well as this is Hannibal. I on good authority would just eat you 😉


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four  
**

* * *

 ****Hadrian's POV****

After the meeting Will Graham and the charming Winston at the Vet clinic, Hadrian found himself curious in a person for once. Dare he say it….obsessive?

 **"I would call you a stalker, Master"**

….he wasn't a stalker. That is such a harsh term. He only made sure to Google the man and find out where he lived, what he did for a living, how many dogs he has, what kind of coffee he likes….

….he was a stalker. He also knew that Will liked to take his coffee black or with a dash of milk if he was feeling particularly well rested, which he hadn't been in the past few weeks…

 **"You are showing your stalker tendencies again, Master."**

"I am just concerned!" he insisted. If Death had an actual face and not just something conjured to appease the masses of souls, he was sure he would be being stared down. But because it doesn't, Hadrian could only feel the pressure of judgment being thrown at him.

Hadrian had tried to come up with ways he could bump into Will without coming across as a stalker or one of those Freddy Lounds types. Nasty woman she was, a real piece of work. If he wasn't so held back by morals he would have made Death deal with her, but alas, he still had those pesky things that he still couldn't seem to shake. Or was there a way to get her targeted by the Ripper fellow stalking Baltimore recently?

 **"Off track again, Master."**

…oh, back to planning his meeting with Will…..

Hadrian thought it over and knew that he just had to go for it, the man wasn't getting any younger after all and Hadrian wanted to be able to spend a quality amount of time with him before his time for his next great adventure came along. You never knew when the law enforcement types died, their deaths tend to be more spontaneous due to other peoples interference.

Packing up his paints, he thought over where Will might be at the moment. It was a Thursday and no new case has popped up so he should still be at the Academy teaching…

 **"He will be at the café near the campus in an hour, Master."**

Ignoring Death, Hadrian quickly picked up his pace with his paints to be able to get ready in time to catch Will at the café.

Hadrian made it to the café in time to see Will walking through the door. He was glad to notice that during Will's paranoid scan of the interior that he seemed pleasantly taken aback seeing him there.

"Hadrian? Good to see you."

"You as well, Will."

He waved Will over to join him in the line, happy to see that Will was pleased to see him and was making an effort to make eye contact with him.

"What brings you all the way out here, Hadrian?" Will passed him his order and they made their way over to one of the corner lounge areas. Will making sure to sit with his back facing the wall and keeping a clear line of sight over the establishment. Hadrian found it endearing and had no problem with seating where indicated, anything to keep Will at ease with him.

"I need to pick up some art supplies and thought to stop to get a coffee. This place is highly recommended by the local bloggers."

Sipping at his coffee, Hadrian took in Will's appearance. He seemed scruffier than he last saw and were those bags under his eyes? Poor Will seemed to be over-worked.

"What about you, Will?"

Will seemed to deflate a little, a tired sigh escaping as a roughened hand scraped over his face and pinched the bridge of his nose, dislodging his glasses. "I'm sure you heard on the news? A new case has me out in the field."

Hadrian thought over what he heard from his colleagues, he wasn't one for listening to mainstream media - especially the news. He had quite enough of that in his past life to last him several lifetimes over. Nothing came to mind.

 **"He's talking about a new serial killer, one that has about eight missing girls and counting, Master."**

Nodding his head a bit, Will thinking he was agreeing about hearing of the case, continued. "I can't share much with you, you understand. But the case has my superior bringing in a psychiatrist."

"You don't strike me as the type to use their services, Will." His comment has Will relaxing, and it was then Hadrian realized that Will was expecting to be judged based on that information alone.

"No, unfortunately my boss seems to think otherwise."

* * *

 ****Will Graham's POV****

He was pleasantly surprised to see Hadrian standing in line at the café closest to the campus. After a long day of lecturing only for the last one to be interrupted half way through by Jack and his overbearing ways he was quite done for the day.

He found himself able to carry on an easy conversation with Hadrian, which surprised him. He had thought it was a fluke the first time he saw him and didn't think he would feel as comfortable conversing with Hadrian then as he does now. But he was mistaken. He had planned to order his coffee to go as he needed to be back at the office going over the case with Jack, but found himself sitting down in one of the corner lounge area with Hadrian, loathe to leave the man so soon after meeting him again.

Hadrian's simple dismissal over the issue of the psychiatrist had Will relaxing, it seemed that he wasn't judged over his boss finding him in need of psychiatric help or his potential of wanting to receive said help. Perhaps this will turn into a very rewarding friendship.

Will couldn't help but admire the visage Hadrian provided him, his legs elegantly crossed at the knee and daintily sipping at his coffee had long suppressed desires making themselves known. Will wasn't one to indulge in sexual desires as they always ended in disaster as his empathy tended to be a big turn off as well as his other multitude of issues that made him "unstable" but with Hadrian Will saw an opportunity. He was able to make eye contact without feeling the drowning depths of empathy and Hadrian was turning out to be the least judgmental person Will knows which didn't say much for the quality of friends he surrounds himself with. If he could call them friends at all If he was being honest.

"What do you think about getting a drink later this week, Will?"

If it wasn't for the case, Will would give a definite answer to when, but due to the nature of most ongoing cases he couldn't be sure that he wouldn't be forced to cancel. "I'm not sure, Hadrian. With the case being ongoing it can be unpredictable and I would hate to have to cancel on you."

He was glad to see that the man wasn't disappointed by the rejection, if anything he seemed thoughtful with a small frown crossing his brow. "If you don't think me too bold, Will. How about we go get that drink now?"

Will thought it over, "How about a meal then a drink? I have yet to eat and wouldn't mind sharing a meal with you."

He obviously said the right thing if the smile on Hadrian's face was anything to go by. He felt almost…giddy? It had been a long _long_ time since he even attempted to date someone seriously and to have the attraction reciprocated? A nice feeling for sure.

* * *

A/N: I know, I know. Long time to wait for an update, I can understand. This chapter was hard to write, I ended up rewriting it so many times I lost count. I decided to go with this version as I think it has done it's job of getting Will and Hadrian together in a less formal environment and at least get the ball rolling on their relationship before Hannibal steps into play.

This story won't follow canon, dialogue will be different and the characters may be OOC, but I am trying to get the whole Hannibal TV show vibe going but as this is my first fic, I don't expect to get it right straight away.

I am also attempting to make my chapters longer to help with the story development, thank you for all the kind reviews and keep the suggestions coming! I love the brainstorming process and it helps me put pen to paper. How do you guys like having Hadrian be a little spacey from time to time when Death says some shocking things?


End file.
